


Hillary is Enceinte

by Janeway578



Category: Political RPF - US 20th c.
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10411416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janeway578/pseuds/Janeway578
Summary: Hill and Bill are having a baby!





	1. Pomegranate Seed

**Author's Note:**

> Going to try to write a vignette for each trimester. The second one will be for Mature audiences, so if lovin' between a horny pregnant lady and her hubby is not your cup of tea, feel free to skip on over that one :)

Summer, 1979

Bill looked lovingly at his wife, sprawled out on the bed in just her towel, sound asleep. She had gone upstairs an hour before to take a shower and when she hadn't come back down, he got curious and went in search of her. He smiled down at her and reached out to pull the covers over her sleeping form, causing her her to stir slightly and her eyes to flutter.

"Go back to sleep sweetheart," he whispered as he tucked her in.

"Mmmm Bill?" She asked groggily.

"Yeah?"

"G'night. Love you," she mumbled and snuggled deeper under the covers.

He kissed the top of her head softly before turning out the light and shutting the door behind him. 

Since their Bermuda getaway the previous month, they had been going nonstop, and it must have finally caught up to his exhausted wife. She was known to push herself too hard at times, so frankly he was glad she was getting some much needed rest. After a couple more hours of work, he gave up and joined her.

She awoke the next morning feeling disoriented. How long had she been asleep? And why was she wearing only a towel? She lay there for a moment remembering how she had gotten out of the shower and sat on the bed to towel off her hair. She had had the urge to rest her eyes for a few minutes and there she was some...(squinting at the clock on the bedside table) 12 hours later! What was worse, she still felt exhausted. 

Caught up in her musings, she didn't notice the slight movement on the bed next to her until she felt his warm arms circle her waist and his breath next to her ear as he rested his head on her pillow.

"Morning sleepyhead," he drawled.

She put her hands over his on her waist.

"Morning Honey. I can't believe I slept that long! Sorry I disappeared on you like that!" She twined her fingers through his.

Bill chuckled. "My girl must have been tired, how ya feelin' now?"

"Much better," she fibbed. No sense in telling him she felt like she had been run over by a truck. She was sure she had just gotten too much sleep and she'd be back to herself as soon as she was up and moving around. Easier said than done, she thought. It was going to prove difficult to extricate herself from her husband's wandering hands, which had slowly started a journey from her waist to her now-bare breasts.

As soon as he cupped them, she sucked in a breath and winced. Holy hell, her breasts felt bruised and battered, and she knew Bill had noticed her flinch at his touch.

"What's wrong Baby?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

Hillary turned over to look at him, trying to ease his mind.

"Just a little sore is all, I'm sure it's nothing. I probably just slept wrong."

Bill looked skeptical. And adorable, she had to admit. 

She reached over to fit her lips to his in a soft kiss, which seemed to placate him. As their mouths moved together, she brought his hand up and gently placed it against her breast. 

"Just go easy," she whispered. And he did. 

Two days passed and Hillary found she was still not feeling right. The exhaustion she felt was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Like a heavy blanket that surrounded her all day, making her limbs sluggish and her thoughts foggy. Her breasts were so sore that even the act of fastening her bra had her grimacing in pain each morning. It wasn't until the third day that the thought finally occurred to her: could it be? Pregnant? She remembered those 4 glorious days in Bermuda when they had finally decided after so long that they could let go and make love for the sake of it, instead of thermometers, calendars and planned, clinical sex. 

Trying desperately not to get her hopes up, only to have them crushed like so many times before, she calmly dialed her doctor's office and requested an appointment. 

48 hours hours later, she got the call that would change her forever. She hung up the phone, giddy, thinking of how she was going to give her husband the surprise of his life. 

The next night at bed time, Bill found a small box wrapped in plain brown paper atop his pillow. Hillary, who had already gotten into bed, was propped up on her elbow facing him, watching his face as he took notice of her gift.

"What do we have here?" He asked as he picked up the little box and looked at her. 

She smiled coyly. "Why don't you open it and find out?"

Bill's eyes lit up. Like a kid on Christmas, he could never resist a present. He sat on the bed beside her and tore the paper off while she beamed up at him. 

He took off the lid and looked down, then over at her, confusion written in his eyes.

Inside lay an ornate silver rattle, tied with a twisted blue and pink ribbon.

He looked back at the box, then back at her and at her broad smile, his mouth fell open. 

"Hilly, are you saying? Are you...are we?" He stammered incoherently.

She nodded and finished for him. "...going to have a baby? Yes Honey, or should I say Daddy?"

His eyes welled up with tears and he moved swiftly to take her face between his hands and lean his forehead against hers.

"You really mean it?"

They were both teary-eyed now, overjoyed at the prospect of their shared dream becoming a reality.

"About 6 weeks along," she answered in confirmation. "Looks like our trip was just what the doctor ordered!" Her hearty chuckle was like a ray of sunshine.

Bill found himself overwhelmed by the joy he was feeling. There was nothing he wanted more in his life than to share it with a child. His and Hillary's child. He brought his hand down and placed it on her abdomen, hoping its warmth would somehow reach the tiny life nestled inside.  
He followed with his lips, bending down to kiss the soft skin under her pajama top and whisper, "Hello little one, I'm your Daddy. I know it'll be a while yet before we meet you, but you've already made your Mommy and me the happiest people in the world."

Hillary giggled through her tears, amazed by the absolute sweetness of her husband. His reaction was so much better than she could have hoped for.

Bill laid back on his pillow and gathered her in his arms, hand drawing lazy patterns on her back as they both quietly absorbed their new reality.

"How are you feeling Hilly?" He asked seriously, tipping her chin so he could get a look at her face.

She smiled, but he could see how truly tired she looked.

"Well, I've never felt more exhausted in my entire life, my boobs feel like someone used them as punching bags, they're already a cup size bigger and I have to pee every 15 seconds but I am deliriously happy and so excited to go through this experience, especially with you. I love you so much," she finished as more tears streamed down her face. She sniffled and laughed self deprecatingly. "Oh, and I can't seem to stop crying at everything, so there's that too."

Bill squeezed her tighter against him as she wiped her eyes on his t-shirt.

"How can I help Baby?" He asked, feeling a bit left out of the process. 

Hillary sniffled again and said, "You can promise me you won't judge me if I want to eat ice cream for dinner, and that you'll love me even if I gain 400 lbs, and that you'll hold my hair back if I get morning sickness. Oh and you'll tie my shoes when I can't see my feet anymore and rub my shoulders when they're sore and...."

Bill stopped her rambling with a kiss, gently pushing her back into the downy pillows behind her, tongue sweeping softly past her teeth and into the wet haven of her mouth. She hummed against his lips and brought her hand up to caress the nape of his neck as the kiss lingered on.

He eased out of it and looked down at her, mirth crinkling the corners of his eyes. He was so damned happy.

"I've got you, Sweetheart. I will be the best hair-holder, shoe-tier and shoulder-rubber you could ever ask for. And I promise I will love every pound of you, no matter how many there are. You and this baby mean everything to me and I want to be here for all of it. You're going to get so sick of me hovering around you that you'll probably throw me out but I'm in this with you, 100%."

She laughed and pulled his head down for another quick kiss then yawned, the excitement finally wearing her out.

Bill noticed and true to his word, was right there to help.

"To bed with you Hilly," he said as he drew the covers over them both.

She turned over flicked off the lamp beside the bed and Bill snuggled up behind her, hands gently resting on her tummy. Hillary was out like a light, feeling safe and loved in his embrace, but he was content to let the steady in and out of her breathing fill his senses for a while. Thoughts of tiny faces with blue eyes and plump cheeks, shoulder rides and first days of school filled him with a profound sense of peace, until he too finally succumbed to sleep.

TBC...


	2. Edge of Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grown up fun for the Clintons!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out a little more explicit than I intended. Sorry kids!

Fall, 1979 

Hillary reclined on the sofa, pillow behind her back and feet in her husband's lap. She had one hand resting on the noticeable protrusion of her belly, the other held a book which she was valiantly trying to concentrate on, and failing miserably.

Her eyes kept drifting toward Bill, also reading, and whose fingers absently rubbed her bare feet while he flipped page after page. She watched his long, elegant digits as they wrapped around her foot and sighed as his thumb dug into her arch in just the right place. Her eyes drifted shut in reflection.

After dealing with the exhaustion, morning sickness and other adjustments of the first trimester, Hillary felt like she had hit her stride around the 16-week mark. The constant nausea and all consuming fatigue had finally abated and she was left with a renewed sense of energy. Now at almost 22 weeks she found herself feeling quite good. Each new development had been met with wonder, from the way her abdomen had gone from soft to hard and rounded to the whimsical flutters she had felt as their tiny baby asserted itself inside her womb. All of it was magical. They had been brought to tears as Bill had placed both of his hands over her stomach and was finally able to feel the baby's movement from the outside. 

And she looked as good as she felt. Her dewy skin was clear and ethereal, her hair had thickened and was wonderfully wavy and shiny and her breasts had gone up at least 2 cup sizes, much to Bill's delight. Yes, she was definitely enjoying the second trimester much more than the first.

She was brought out of her reverie as Bill pressed a particularly good spot on her foot and she moaned in pleasure. He had been such an amazing partner through the experience thus far; attentive, compassionate and so tender. Always making sure she ate, slept and was comfortable, he went out of his way to be near her at all times. Hillary had long considered herself an independent woman but she had to admit that she was enjoying all of his extra attention.

He continued to rub one foot, and at the same time the other crept dangerously close to his groin. He looked down to where it rested against his pants then looked over to her, eyebrow arched, and she met his stare and upped the ante by licking her lips seductively. One of the unexpected but not unpleasant side effects she'd recently been experiencing was that the pregnancy hormones were wreaking havoc on her libido. The slightest touch was enough to arouse her, and he'd been touching her for a good 10 minutes now. She wriggled her toes against him and he closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch, obviously enjoying the sensation. 

She cocked her head, indicating he should join her at her end of the sofa. "Come over here," she quietly demanded.

He put his book down and slid over to her, watching her watch him with hooded eyes.

"Have I told you..." she purred, "...how incredibly sexy your hands are?"

He held her eyes as he brought his hand slowly against her cheek, gently rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb. She flicked her tongue against the pad.

"Hmmm, you think so?" He murmured.

She nodded slowly. "Mmmm hmmmm. Such a juxtaposition. They can be strong yet gentle, soothing yet arousing. I love watching them when you're talking excitedly, or when they're leafing through the pages of a book. I especially love when they're touching me."

He slipped his hand from her cheek to the nape of her neck and into her hair. 

"Why Mrs. Clinton, are you coming on to me?"

She gave him a throaty laugh.

"Absolutely. Is it working?"

In answer, he captured her lips in a sensual kiss, causing her to moan deeply as he coaxed her mouth open and slipped his tongue inside. She ran her fingers from his temples to his neck, eliciting a shiver from him as he pulled back. "Take me upstairs Billy," she pleaded.

Once ensconced in the privacy of their bedroom, Bill swiftly shed his clothes, then took the time to slowly rid Hillary of her clothing piece by piece until she stood naked before him. She flushed as she watched his eyes roam hotly from her glowing face down over her full breasts to the roundness of her tummy and lower between her legs to her sex, already moist and ready for him.

"My God Baby, you are SO beautiful," he choked, clearly overcome by the sight of her. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and they embraced a moment, skin heating everywhere they touched. Hillary stood on her tip toes to kiss the warmth of his neck while reaching down to stroke his growing erection. 

"I want you," she whispered, already undulating her hips against him. 

He guided them toward the bed until the backs of her knees hit, then urged her into the middle, placing a pillow under her hips for support. He could see she was restless, hands twisting in the bedclothes and he hadn't even touched her yet.

Crawling over her on all fours, being careful not to put too much pressure on her, he lowered his face to hers and said, "Slow down Sweetheart. I'll get you there, I promise." 

She screwed her eyes shut and whimpered as Bill gently took her hands and placed them above her head, indicating he wanted her relaxed and compliant. He then began trailing his lips and tongue from one ear to the other then down toward her breasts, which he tenderly pushed together with his hands. He knew they were no longer sore like they had been but they were still extremely sensitive and she mewled with pleasure as he continued to knead her. He licked over the dusky tips, which had darkened with her pregnancy, and she arched her back into his touch. Her hands remained over her head, white-knuckling the pillow forcefully with each lash of his tongue against her nipple. 

He continued his path downward, stopping to place a soft kiss on the swell of her abdomen before coming to lay on his stomach between her legs. Lifting one of her thighs over his shoulder, he brought his face close to her center and blew softly. Hillary groaned aloud and shifted her hips toward her husband's mouth hoping for some sweet relief, which he provided in the form of his finger, slipping it inside to the knuckle while closing his lips over the hood of her clitoris. He curled it inside of her and pressed the rough patch of her g-spot and with a few more strokes of his tongue, she was coming, head thrashing about and hips lifting high off the pillow so that Bill had to anchor her down to keep connected to her. She sobbed with each delicious spasm until finally she felt him withdraw and move up the bed to lay next to her.

She pulled him to her for a kiss and the taste of herself on his mouth inflamed her again, despite the intense release she had just experienced. She licked around his lips as she palmed his erection, leaving Bill grunting into her mouth and thrusting into her hand.

"Jesus Baby, you're insatiable tonight," he groaned, trying hard to maintain some composure.

Hillary was relentless, reaching down to cup his testicles as she ran her other hand up and down the shaft. 

"I need to feel you inside me Billy, hard and fast. Please."

He could hear the desperation in her voice. She was on another level tonight.

"Turn over," he said, nudging her shoulder and helping to roll her over so he could spoon her from behind.

He used his knees to bend hers upward and wrapped his arm under her belly to hold her to him as he entered her in one stroke. They both cried out as he buried himself within her. 

"Okay?" 

She nodded against him and he started with some shallow thrusts but Hillary was having none of it. She reached around and grabbed his ass, urging him on. 

"Harder Honey. Deeper," a whispered plea.

Bill tightened his arm under her bump and threw his leg over hers, bringing him deeper than he thought possible. He could feel the head of his cock hit her womb and it felt fucking amazing.

"Yes, that's it! God that feels good, please don't stop!"

The intimacy of their position allowed him to hold her impossibly close as he plunged in and out of her depths at a steady pace. He rested his chin on her shoulder as his other hand snaked from under her arm to caress her face. She caught his thumb between her teeth and sucked greedily as he continued pushing them closer to the abyss. 

Bill grabbed her right hand and guided it between her legs, whispering hotly in her ear, "Touch yourself for me Sweetheart," and he loosely held her wrist as she used two fingers to circle her clit. 

He could feel the small ripples of her inner muscles, the rush of extra moisture as her body prepared for release, and he quickened his movements in sync with her circling fingers. 

"You're so close Baby, I can feel it, so wet and tight around me. I wanna feel you come."

His breathy words against her skin shot straight to her center, tipping her right over the edge. She came with a shriek, rendered breathless by the intensity of her orgasm. 

"Oh Fuck Hillary," she heard Bill groan a moment later, felt him speed up furiously until he slumped against her, spent and panting.

They lay spooned together catching their breaths until Hillary rolled over in his embrace, humming softly as he slipped out of her. He tilted her chin up and they kissed lazily, his hands on her face, until he felt tears running down her cheeks and he pulled away to look at her.

"Hey, why the tears?" He asked seriously.

Hillary's face fell and she huffed out a breath. "I don't know!" She said, a hint of frustration in her voice. He smiled and wiped them away with his thumbs.

"I'm going to try not to take it as an assessment of my lovemaking skills," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. He knew she was unaccustomed to temperamental outbursts and it sometimes left her feeling flustered. His joke seemed to work and earned him a watery smile and a playful swat to his chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just love you so much, I guess it just hit me, and these crazy hormones are ruining my steely emotional reserve."

Bill snickered and pulled her into a bear hug, as close as her belly would allow. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair. Words seemed inadequate in that moment to express his adoration for her and the little life they had created.

Pressed together, he felt a small thump against his stomach and he drew back with a chuckle.

"Someone's awake," he said as he placed his hand over her middle.

Hillary, now sufficiently recovered, stifled a laugh.

"Maybe that's her way of letting Mommy and Daddy know their activities are disturbing her!" She was outright giggling now. 

Her laughter was contagious and Bill found himself caught up, leaning down close to her midsection and whispering, "Sorry kid, your Mama was all over me and as I'm sure you'll find out, I can't deny her anything. It's ok though, she had her way with me and now we're done. You can go back to sleep now."

Hilary guffawed as he placed a final kiss to her stomach and then looked up and gave her a saucy wink.

"Be glad I'm so sexually needy these days, otherwise I might have to exile you to the couch for making me look bad in front of our baby." 

"You know I serve at your pleasure Hilly," he drawled as he rolled onto his back and she tucked into his side. He pulled the covers up around their waists and shut off the light beside him.

A moment later, "Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"In case I haven't said it lately, thank you for taking such good care of us. This baby is so lucky to have you as a father. I hope you know that."

Bill was thankful for the darkness, if only to hide the mist in his own eyes. Leave it to his wife be the champion he so desperately needed. He had been struggling internally as of late, wondering if he had what it took to be a good parent. Lord knows he had had no positive male role models in his own life as a guide. Hillary's belief in him was like a balm to the raw fear that had been nagging him as he watched her grow bigger and the reality of parenthood loomed closer. God, he loved her.

"I don't know how you always know the right thing to say, but thank you," he choked out.

She rested her head on his chest and faced him in the shadows. "Because I know you, Bill Clinton. I know your heart, your capacity to love, your compassion and empathy for others. You are a good man, and you will be a great Daddy. Don't ever doubt that, ok?"

That night as he drifted off, he took the time to say a prayer. For his wife. For his unborn child. And for himself, that he may be everything to them that they deserve, and more. 

TBC...


	3. Make Room for Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Building the nest

Winter 1979/1980

He found her sitting cross-legged on the floor of the nursery, surrounded by piles of baby clothes and shoes, scribbling furiously on a yellow-lined notepad in her lap. Three paint cans sat off to her left, along with paint brushes, rollers, tins and a folded tarp. Across the room on the wall he noticed three swipes of paint presumably corresponding to the colors in said paint cans. 

He cleared his throat as he approached and she looked up at him with a beatific smile. He couldn't help but smile in return, although he was a bit perplexed by the scene before him.

"What are you up to Baby?" He asked carefully. Lately her fuse had seemed a bit shorter so he decided to proceed with caution.

"I'm organizing," she said simply. 

He must have furrowed his brow unconsciously because she rolled her eyes and held out her hands, "Help me up and I'll show you!" Uh oh, she sounded exasperated.

He took her hands and pulled her up off the floor right into his arms. He kissed her softly on her lips and felt her relax a little. 

"Now, what are we doing here?" He asked again. 

She held up the notepad for him to see. "See here," she pointed to the first handwritten line, "We need to wash and fold all the baby's clothes, then put them away in the closet and dresser."

Bill tried not to let his confusion show, lest he be subjected to a death glare.

"Didn't we already wash everything?" He hedged.

She let out a sigh. "Yeah, but I just want to make sure it's extra clean. You know all those chemicals they use in the manufacturing process can be bad for the baby's skin."

Bill decided to humor her, no point in making an issue out of something so trivial and if it made her feel better, he'd go along.

"Ok Hilly, how can I help?"

She indicated the stacks of cloth diapers, tiny socks and footed pajamas with a sweep of her hand. "You can sort these by colors...darks, whites and lights, then carry them down to the laundry room for me so I can wash them."

Bill looked at her skeptically. "Hill, we have a housekeeping staff that can do that for you, no need to do it yourself." 

Hillary scoffed. "No no, I'd feel better if I did it myself. Besides, I don't need the housekeepers thinking I'm insane trying to explain why they need to do this a second time this week. Bad enough you're looking at me like I'm crazy," she chuckled. 

He reached out to caress her cheek with his thumb. 

"Not crazy Baby, just *extremely* thorough," he laughed and ducked out of the way to avoid the back of her hand as she attempted to smack him in the chest. 

He came back to stand behind her, arms circling her belly and head on her shoulder.

"Ok, so wash baby clothes, check. What's next on that list of yours?"

Her finger fell on the second item in the list and Bill's eyes widened. "Paint nursery. Hillary, we just painted in here last month! Don't tell me month-old paint is bad for the baby?"

She turned her head to look at him and he noticed her adorable pout. "I know Billy, but I got to looking at it today and it seems so drab. I really think the baby will do better with a happier color, don't you?" She walked over to the 3 swatches she had painted on the wall. "Look at this light green, what do you think? Or this pastel yellow? Even this robin's egg blue is better than what's on the walls now." 

Bill grumbled under his breath. She had, of course, selected the color that was currently occupying the walls, but he thought it wise to refrain from bringing that up. 

"And who, pray tell, will be doing this paint job?" He asked quizzically. 

She turned in his arms and looped her fingers around his neck, gracing him with a hopeful smile. 

"Wellll, I was really hoping maybe you could help me," she said with a flutter of her eyelashes. He loved this cutesy side of her but enough was enough.

"Hillary Diane, if you think you're going to be climbing ladders and mixing paint when you're 8 months pregnant, you've got another thing coming. For Gods sake, let's use some common sense!" 

Oh no, her eyes were filling up with tears. He'd stepped in it now.

She pushed him away and turned her back on him, and he saw her swiping furiously at her cheeks. Shit, shit, shit. He reached for her hand and pulled her back to him, lifting her chin so their eyes met.

"I'm sorry Hilly, I didn't mean to raise my voice, I just worry about you. I know you're used to being able to do everything yourself but you've got to know your limits. I would die if something happened to you or the baby. Can you understand that?" She nodded solemnly.

"I will find some help painting the room on one condition," another nod. "You may supervise, FROM A DISTANCE, ok? No breathing in paint fumes or standing on stools or ladders to inspect this or that. You have to leave the heavy stuff to me. Do we have a deal?" She wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked him square in the eye as she said, "Yes DAD," and rolled her eyes. 

He growled and swatted her butt playfully. "Smart ass!" He heard her giggle and gave thanks that the storm had blown over. 

"Now, what's on the rest of your list?"

All business again, she began ticking off the remaining items: Set up bassinet, line dresser drawers with contact paper, pack hospital bag, buy diaper pins, clean out hairbrush, organize bathroom counter.

"Clean out hairbrush?" He raised an eyebrow. 

She shrugged her shoulders. "I just want everything to be clean and ready for when this child gets here, who knows when I'll have time to clean out my brush again?" She laughed at the confounded look he was giving her.

"Honey, you just have to humor me, ok? I can only guess this is the nesting instinct I was reading about and I can't explain it but when I woke up this morning I just KNEW I had to get these things accomplished or I would not be able to rest. This pregnancy has been full of quirky side effects, I'm going to chalk this up to another. So just zip your lips and help me, alright?"

Bill gave her a mock salute and a genuine smile. "You got it Baby!"

They spent the next hour accomplishing some of Hillary's tasks, until he noticed her yawning and rubbing the small of her back. She had clearly had enough and it was his job to put an end to their chores for the day. 

"Come on Hilly, let's call it a day. How about we have some dinner and then get you in a nice warm bath? I'll even give you a massage if you're good."

Hillary hummed her approval. Honestly, she had probably overdone it today but would never admit it. The thought of the bath water and her husband's hands working her tired muscles sounded heavenly. 

With his arm around her shoulders, they headed for the kitchen where they ate a light dinner which Hillary capped off with a double scoop of chocolate ice cream, then he took her upstairs and ran her a bath.

She stripped off everything but bra and panties and headed for the bathroom where Bill was shutting off the water. He turned to leave but she grabbed his hand. "Stay and talk to me," she implored. He was more than happy to remain in her presence as long as she wanted him to.

When she finally stood naked in front of him, his breath caught in his throat. He had always loved her body but there was something so incredible about getting to witness the changes it had undergone over the last 8 months. He, and he alone was privy to this side of her, it was like a secret part of herself that she saved only for him. He was beyond honored to guard it. 

"Beautiful," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind and guiding them in front of the bathroom mirror. His hands rested on the taut roundness of her belly. Such contrast, he thought. He fully clothed, she completely nude. She was all curves and softness and he was more sharp and angular. They made a stunning pair.

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Hilly. Watching you change and grow with our child has been one of the best experiences of my life. You've never been more gorgeous."

She covered his hands with her own and craned her neck to kiss him tenderly on the lips, then she smiled mischievously and said, "Don't think sweet talk will get you out of that massage you promised me!" 

Of course, he was more than happy to oblige. He couldn't deny his girl anything, and found he didn't want to.


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome little one!

March, 1980

Had it been just a week? 

From the moment their baby girl had been pulled from her body and placed squalling on her chest, time had seemed to Hillary to be moving both fast and slow in equal measure. Her emotions remained a complicated tangle even now, something she found herself struggling with more than she cared to admit.

First of which was love, although she felt that word wholly inadequate to describe the all-encompassing feeling she had for the little thing who had made a surprise arrival that night in late February. The initial feeling was like a rush of something, starting from the top of her head and extending outward to limbs and heart. When it reached her mouth, she had wailed audibly, so overcome that she actually felt like she was being crushed by the weight of it. 

Bill had been there too, tears falling freely, but could he ever truly understand the strength of the bond that had just formed between mother and child? Nothing, literally nothing on earth had ever made her feel the way she had felt in that second. 

She had held onto that feeling, forging through the hospital stay, the numbness of her lower body and the endless instruction that came from well-meaning nurses. "Hold her this way, try this position for a good latch, swaddle her to help her sleep better. Not too many clothes, but just enough so she doesn't catch a chill." 

As the first 4 days drew to a close, other emotions began to creep in. Emotions Hillary was unaccustomed to.

Fear, self-doubt, sadness.

It occurred to her upon their return home with baby Chelsea, how utterly unprepared she was for her new role as a mother. The thing she had most coveted in the world now had her paralyzed. Not since her first days at Wellesley had she been so unsure of herself.

Just as she had then, she called on her own mother, who thank God, had flown out as soon as Chelsea was born. "I don't know how to do this," she sobbed. "I'm failing her and she's not even a week old!"

Dorothy, having been a new mother herself, knelt down in front of where her daughter sat in the rocking chair. "Honey, look at that baby right there. She's asleep, she doesn't have a care in the world right now."

"But she won't nurse!" Hillary cried. "I've tried everything they told me in the hospital and she just will not stay latched on! I know she's starving and I can't even get her to eat." 

Dorothy took her hands and caressed them between her own. 

"Hillary, if she were starving, she would not be sleeping peacefully in the corner. When she wakes up, we will try again. Don't forget, she's new to the world and she's learning too. You've got to help each other. And from what I see so far, you are both doing a wonderful job. Please trust me Sweetheart."

As if on cue, little Chelsea Victoria woke with a howl. Hillary's tears began anew. 

These zig zags between elation and sadness, confidence and doubt had Hillary reeling. How could she take care of this child if she couldn't even get herself under control? And Bill, poor sweet Bill was clearly terrified of the rollercoaster that he was witnessing on a daily basis. His normally even-keeled wife was now an unmitigated disaster, and she was sure he was ready to send her straight to the looney bin.

Dorothy walked over to the bassinet and lifted the little bundle, stripping her down to her diaper. "Ok Little Lady, it's time for you to eat," she said matter-of-factly.

Hillary sat ramrod straight in the rocking chair, preparing herself for the inevitable defeat when her daughter would not breastfeed. Dorothy saw the tension in her own daughter as she placed Chelsea in her arms. "Relax Honey," she pleaded. "She can sense how you're feeling."

Unclipping her nursing bra, she cradled her daughter to her, whispering softly through tears. "Hi Baby Girl. Mama could really use some help right now. How about you just take a little milk and then you can go back to sleep? Can you do that for me, hmmm?" The last word was a strangled plea. 

Later she would swear it was the hand of God. Chelsea rooted around for a minute before opening her tiny mouth and forming a perfect latch on her mother's breast. She suckled lazily for a minute until Hillary felt the telltale letdown of her milk, then her daughter sucked greedily, her jaw moving with each swallow. Hillary let out a cry.

"Mom, Billy come over here! She's doing it!!" She didn't think she'd ever been so relieved in her life.

Bill and Dorothy knelt on either side of the rocker, and they all three stared as Chelsea gulped down her first full meal. As if feeling their eyes on her, the little girl opened and closed one eye quickly. Tears pouring down her cheeks, Hillary suddenly let out a genuine laugh, thinking what the three of them must look like from Chelsea's point of view. One sobbing and laughing, the other two grinning like idiots. It was a moment of unadulterated joy. And in that moment, she truly felt like they might be alright after all.

 

**********

Had it been just 2 weeks?

Hillary stepped out of the bathroom and looked around. Empty. She had left Chelsea and Bill relaxing on the bed so she could take a much needed shower, and now they were nowhere to be seen. This, of course, sent Hillary into a minor panic, having the need to be in close proximity to her daughter at all times. 

She wandered out of the bedroom and down the hall, where she heard a muffled voice coming from the nursery.

She stopped short at the door. There, bathed in moonlight from the window, were her husband and baby girl. He, wearing just boxers and she a diaper, she was sound asleep against his chest, little face resting in the crook of his neck as he danced her around the floor. Unaware of his wife's presence, he continued to croon to her, so softly that it took a moment for her to recognize the tune. Sung quietly against her downy head, as if she were the only other person in the world: 

When the curtain closes and the rainbow runs away  
I will bring you incense owls by night  
By candlelight  
By jewel-light  
If only you will stay  
Pretty baby, won't you  
Wake up, it's a Chelsea morning

Of course the tears, ever-present in good and bad times these days, ran unheeded down her cheeks. Her sniffle and watery smile caught Bill's attention and he beamed at her, holding out a hand in invitation.

"What do you think, Baby Girl?" he whispered to Chelsea. "Should we ask your Mama to dance too?" 

Hillary wrapped her arms around him from the side, one hand coming up to stroke Chelsea's back as the little family swayed together in the twilight of the nursery. She thought how in the span of a person's life there were but a few perfect moments. This moment, with the two people she loved most in the entire world, moving together in complete harmony, was about as perfect as it could get. 

********

February, 1981

Had it been a year already?

12 months. She could hardly believe it. 

As Hillary reflected on the first year of their daughter's life, she remembered those initial few weeks with a mixture of joy and consternation. She had been leveled emotionally, something that had been completely unexpected, and humbling. 

It had taken time for her to find her footing as a Mom, but once she had let go of her preconceived notions of motherhood and accepted that most of being a parent is trial and error, she had begun to get her confidence back. Each victory with Chelsea, and there had been many, made any perceived defeats easier to swallow. Two steps forward, half a step back, she liked to think.

The object of her thoughts was currently sitting in her high chair, naked but for a diaper, smothered in cake and frosting in celebration of her birthday. They had decided to have a small cake, just the three of them, ahead of a weekend party with more guests. Crumbs were mashed into her normally fluffy blonde curls and the floor around her looked like something had exploded, but she was giddy with excitement which of course was contagious.

"Mamamama ma mama," she babbled happily. 

Hillary leaned in to wipe some cake off Chelsea's face and was instantly smeared with icing. This set off a hearty laugh from her husband, who had thus far escaped the catastrophe unscathed and continued to watch it play out from a safe distance.

"Oh, she got you good Hilly!" He teased.

It was good to see him smile, she thought. Since the devastation of losing the election, and then the move from Governor's mansion to their modest home in Little Rock, Bill had seen a lot of dark days. Add to that the adjustment of raising a small child, and it felt like they were living in a pressure cooker that could blow any minute. The one bright spot in their lives had been Chelsea, and although husband and wife had had their ups and downs over the last few months, their daughter remained a constant source of joy. 

Deciding that Bill had remained unblemished long enough, she grabbed a handful of cake from the pile on the tray and walked up to where he sat at the kitchen table. Without preamble, she smashed it in his face, licked her fingers and attempted to make a getaway but he was too quick. She shrieked as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lap, both laughing uproariously. Chelsea screamed with delight and flung a handful of cake onto the floor.

"That was a dirty trick," he whispered, dipping his finger in the frosting on her nose and licking it clean. Likewise, Hillary used her fingers to clean the cake from around Bill's mouth then took a taste for herself. The temperature rose around them as they stared at each other's mouths and she was thankful that they seemed to be connecting in a way that had been lacking as of late. She had really missed this playful side of him.

She leaned in close and gave him a quick kiss, then moved her lips to his ear. "Why don't I give Chelsea a bath and put her to bed, and I will meet you in our room in say...20 minutes?"

Bill brushed a crumb from her lip with his thumb and nodded. "You've got yourself a date."

She pulled back and rose from his lap, retrieved their daughter and headed for the bathroom to wash the day away.

Before she reached the hallway she turned toward him again.

"Oh and Billy. Clothing is optional," she said with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I wasn't done yet. 
> 
> I actually just read the excerpt from Living History where she talks about she and Chelsea learning from each other in those first days and it reminded me how I said the same exact thing when my first child was born. I found it oddly comforting that we shared a similar struggle.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Chelsea is Enceinte](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12011052) by [Janeway578](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janeway578/pseuds/Janeway578)




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